


Getting Ready

by hamish_adler_holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: John while hes getting the bomb strapped on, Johns POV, M/M, Moriarty is being a creep, Moriarty knows that John feels something for Sherlock, The Great Game, The Pool Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 19:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1869615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamish_adler_holmes/pseuds/hamish_adler_holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scene they left out of The Great Game--before Sherlock shows up and John is being strapped into a bomb vest.  Moriarty teases him...and knows about the feelings John has?  John's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Ready

It's dark, and I have never been so afraid.

It's stupid really, that I've been to Afghanistan and still I can hardly stand right now and my heart is beating so loudly you could probably hear it from across the hall.  I don't know where I am, though.  There's the smell of chlorine, and when I called out it echoed.  That means I'm by a pool.  Just breathe, breathe.  Think like Sherlock.  God, where is he?

I'll never be able to tell him I love him, oh Christ.

I'm blindfolded, but my arms are free.  I can't try and escape, though, I don't know if there are armed people around me.  I hate this.  Sherlock would know what to do.

"Hello, Johnny Boy."  I freeze and I try to look towards the voice.  I can't find it, but I can identify some bits of it.  Maybe if I get away I can use it to help with the profile.  Slight accent, can't decide where from.  "Thank you so much for helping me in my little game."

I stand still, my fists clenched.  "Is this you?  The one who was blowing up all those people?"

"Oh, yes, you worked that out well, haven't you.  A regular Sherlock Holmes."  A laugh echoes around the space, and I know now that we're in a small room--a locker room?

"Where the hell am I?  Sherlock will find me--"

"Oh, yes, Sherlock.  The great, wonderful Sherlock Holmes. Oh, and how you love that man."  

I freeze.  How does he know?  I hardly even know it.  "I don't love him like that.  It's-it's not like that with us."   _At least not with him._

"Mr. Watson, let's not lie to ourselves."  Hands on my waist.  I flinch and hear the unmistakable click of a gun.  "Stay very still, I don't want blood on my suit."

"You're mad.  Absolutely raving mad."

"Good that you've noticed, now things are cleared up.  How awkward that may have been."  The hands continue to move around me, on my waist and chest and arms and something heavy is on me.   _Jesus, it's probably a bomb.  I'm going to die.  Tonight, I'm dying and Sherlock, he does't know._ _  
_

"Do stop breathing so hard, darling.  Sherlock is on his way."  I freeze and he laughs, a laugh that sends chills up my spine.  "He's coming to give me a flash drive with something very valuable on it.  Oh, how he interests me.  You're so boring, so ordinary.  And he's so wonderfully extraordinary.  How does he manage to put up with you?  I've been near you for only a quarter of an hour and already you're slow mind is making my head hurt."

I frown and he laughs again, and the smell of spearmint gum washes over me, and I nearly gag.  "You're a disgusting human being, you know that?"

He stops laughing and the hands on my torso go still.  "If I were you, Mr. Watson, I'd watch yourself.  Or I'll have your pretty Sherlock killed."  His voice has gone cold and it's hardly even human.  I freeze and he laughs, his hands moving again.  "Now, where were we?  Oh, yes.  You're so frightfully dull.  Though, I think you may have figured out what's happening now.  Yes?"

I nod, not able to find my voice.  "Yes, I think so.  You're putting a bloody bomb on me and you're going to make Sherlock solve some daft puzzle and he'll save me.  I know he will, he always does.  It's what we do."  I'm comforting myself at this point.  "I save him and he saves me."

A chuckle is all that comes from the strange man, and he tightens something around me.  "Alright, now slip into this..." I feel a coat being draped around my shoulders and I numbly move my arms into it.  An earpiece is jammed into my ear and I hear footsteps moving away from me.  Silence for a moment, and then the voice again in my ear.  

"Alright, Mr. Watson, take off the blindfold.  It's time to put on a show."

**Author's Note:**

> Little disclaimer, obviously none of these characters belong to me, they all belong to Gatiss, Moffat, and the BBC. I wish I could create characters like this...
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading! I wrote this when I was in a really shit mood so if it's bad I am so sorry. Feel free to leave comments (:


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